Things About My Carol: Part 4: "She Said: Prove It!"

I spent most of my childhood years in New England. Being a military brat, we did move around a lot (11 schools from K-12) including to North and South Carolina... and then back to New Hampshire before ending up in Georgia. New England will always feel a bit like home. Every self-respecting New England kid learns at least 2 things: how to ice skate and how to snow ski. My first time skiing (other than on nearby Barrett's Hill) was in 1968 at the now defunct and abandoned Fitzwilliam Ski Area in Fitzwilliam, NH, about 20 min from where we lived. Massive vertical drop of 240 ft. You nearly had to push with your poles to go downhill. First time down though I crashed through the snow fence at the bottom. According to Newton, a body in motion will remain in motion... if you're not good at stopping.

Tyrolia cable binding

Ski equipment was pretty crude back then. The ski bindings we are familiar with today were not available in the 1960s. I recall the skis had a toe "release" binding that would turn left or right if enough lateral force was applied, releasing your boot (hopefully requiring less force than what would tear up your knee ligaments.) But, for the rear, your boot had a groove in the back of the heel that accommoded a cable that would pull your boot tightly forward when you latched the cable binding at the front. More like an old cross-country configuration than what we use today for downhill skiing. Lots of injuries back then.

Fitzwilliam had only 2 ways to get you up the slope: a rope tow and a poma lift (also known as a button lift.) Each of these "surface lifts" has its challenges. In both cases, you literally have to ski up the mountain while either being pulled by a rope or, if using the poma lift, putting the "button" between your legs and getting yanked up the hill (see video.) For my very first time on the poma lift I tried to sit on it (which you cannot do,) it and I went to the ground, and I landed on and put a huge bend in one of my ski poles (you cannot unbend them.) Fun skiing with 1 pole.

Fast forward to 1982. I start dating Carol. If you have read my previous blogs: "Things about my Carol" (link,) you already know that she was a bit fiesty and that she was also a bit adventurous (she was a certified scuba diver.) Well, she was also a snow skier. She had even skied in Austria before we met! After several weeks of dating, she informed me that she had already booked a trip out west to go skiing and, that I could either go with her (provided I knew how to ski) or I could wave goodbye from the airport because she was not going to cancel her trip just because she had started dating me. No boyfriend was going to cramp her style I guess. I told her I did, in fact, know how to ski since I was a New Hampshire native (but I hadn't skied in over 10 years.)

She said, "OK, prove it."

I said, "prove what?"

She said, "that you actually know how to ski."

I said, "you think I'm making that up just to impress you?"

She said, "well, if you know how to ski then you should have no problem proving it." 

Good grief! Fiesty gal.

So, one Saturday we made a day trip up to Maggie Valley, NC to spend the day skiing at Cataloochee Ski Area. 

Cataloochee trail map

Since I hadn't skied since Nixon was in the White House, I had to borrow ski apparel/ gloves/ goggles from one of Carol's friends. I had no insulated undergarments so, under the ski bibs, I actually wore panty hose with the feet cut off of them (it does keep your legs warm.)

T-bar

@ Cataloochee

Carol had her own skis and boots but I had to rent my gear. Once we were all set to start, we were heading to the lift (it was a T-bar... another surface "pull you up the mountain" type lift)
She stopped and said, "ok, show me what you've got." I said, "you're not going up with me?" She said, "no... I want to wait and see if you can actually get up and back down this bunny slope without falling... I don't want you to embarass me."

By now, relationship red flags were flying all over the place. But, I kinda admired her spunkiness. I felt up to the challenge.

@ Cataloochee

So, the T-bar pulled me up the slope while I prayed, "Lord don't let me get my skis crossed or catch an edge going up this little slope." The good news is that I made it up and proceeded to ski right down without embarassing myself at all. The kid still had it.

She said, "OK, we can ski now." We spent the rest of the day skiing and having a great time.

Oh, by the way, Carol canceled her ski trip to Jackson Hole, WY because she fell in love with this transplanted Yankee. (Also, I couldn't get off work to go nor could I really afford it at that time.)

And she didn't want to go without me. Awwwww.

Over the years we made multiple trips skiing up in West Virginia and out in Colorado. Breckenridge was our favorite.

Prove it she says.

Hold my beer...

first trip to Breckenridge- 1987

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